Sponsoring My Own Growth

I started this blog years ago with the intention of writing about things that mattered to me. I had intended to write about my son. I wanted to get things off my chest regarding my turbulent marriage. I needed to talk about my mom’s dementia. I thought I would be writing about the looming empty nest that I knew was coming back in 2013. As it turns out, the nest would be completely empty.

Today, while I’ll still use my blog for most of the aforementioned purposes, there is one glaring exception. Everyone in the world knows that I’m divorced by now. Some people know the entire story. I’ve been able to tell a few people some of the things that happened that made them cry just as they made me cry when they happened. Some people know bits and pieces that may make an outsider feel sorry for me. Some know enough (not all of it, but enough) to know better than to feel sorry for me. I’m no shrinking violet. I’m not one of those chicks who will let you back her into a corner. That’s not happening. Ever. There are also some who have created their own versions of my tale but have no clue what they’re talking about.

There are details about those 19 years that I’m preserving for my book but there are some that I feel compelled to share right here. My reason for maintaining this blog now, however, is to reach the woman who hasn’t yet gotten the nerve to face the domestic abuse they’re trapped in. I was subjected to the “invisible” form of domestic abuse: emotional and mental pounding. I almost died on July 21, 2009 after suffering a brain hemorrhage. Y’all realize that it’s nearly unheard of that people survive those things and even if they do, there’s usually some residual damage, don’t you? How in the world can I sit on the lessons I learned over those years? How can I quietly sit by, knowing other women are suffering in silence and shame? I’m not Mother Teresa nor am I a saint. I am, however, a woman with a story, a testimony and a desire to help.

The growth of my blog depends solely on my own personal growth. There have been days when I haven’t written because I’ve either been too angry or too hurt to put the words out there. What I’ve decided to do is fight through those things and water that seed of assistance that’s been kind of stunted in growth. I’m going to write daily. I’m going to push forward with my story so that perhaps some other woman will take charge of her life and reclaim herself.